


I’ll Think About That Tomorrow…

by NobodysBloodyPrincess



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Steve Rogers, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:32:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodysBloodyPrincess/pseuds/NobodysBloodyPrincess
Summary: The truth of it was that Steve had given up on being happy. He’d known from the moment he walked away from the love of his life at seventeen that he would never again feel an ounce of happiness. It’d proven true along these long twenty years of his shitty life. Except this time, Steve would take happiness by the reigns and nothing, not even his conscience would stand in his way.





	I’ll Think About That Tomorrow…

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to BlossomsintheMist whose writing inspired me and although my own writing cannot be compared to her mastery, I hope it’s enjoyable. 
> 
> ** My deepest, trust apologies to those who liked my story before and found it deleted all of a sudden. I had browser troubles which caused it to be posted five times! I fixed up the mess but alas, I lost you all. I'm so sorry, I hope you Kudos and Bookmark again.

The guy’s nose crunched beneath the weight of Steve’s knuckles but he kept pounding until the bloodied man chocked out, “Stop, please stop!”

Steve did stop then. He relinquished his grip on the guy’s blonde hair, releasing his head to gravity until it hit the pavement with a hard ‘thunk.’ He had the presence of mind then to look around for any spectators that might have gathered, perhaps a few of the guy’s buddies, but much to his disappointment there was no one. He’d run out of guys to beat up this side of Texas.

He’d spent the better part of the past month and a half town-hopping, drinking and picking fights. Sometimes he fought for gas money, others, for fun and while his anger simmered unextinguished his body was beginning to complain. His knuckles, now permanently purple and swollen, hurt when he gripped the handles of his motorcycle, his torso, matted with colourful blotches of purple and blue hurt when he walked. Not that anyone would have noticed just by looking at him, Steve walked, calmly, confidently away from the alley and onto the barely lighted street to look for his bike. He found the old Harley right where he left it. He’d won the bike just a year ago at a game of poker, just as he’d won his last four bikes. 

Steve was a gambling man and a good one at that. He knew every gambling game known to man and he won often enough to keep him in honest living. Not that he cared much about that anymore. Steve didn’t care much about anything anymore, not since Bucky announced he was staying in Georgia with Marlene. They were expecting a baby! He’d said, he wanted to marry her and get his life together. 

Get his life together. 

Like Steve’s life wasn’t worth shit. 

As if Steve had not made the ultimate sacrifice for his childhood friend who had now given him the boot. 

Regret’s a nasty thing. It bites at you, tears at flesh and pokes at the open wound with poison. The more regrets, the worse it is and Steve had a lot of regrets. He’d caused a lot of pain and not just from the nobodies he’d beaten up along the years, those didn’t matter, no… he’d caused pain to the love of his life. He’d broken the heart of the love of his life and for what? For an ungrateful best friend who was now shacking up with some slut he’d just met!

Bucky had never loved him, he’d always known that and Steve had been fine knowing it because he didn’t really love Bucky either. They’d loved each other in their own way, with a mixture of platonic, familial and sometimes passionate love that had suited them just fine on the road. The main problem lay in that Bucky had never really been bisexual, he’d just been bi-curious and Steve? Steve was as gay as they came. So while Bucky had supplemented his sexual desires with the bar women of the Southwest United States, Steve had been happy with getting a little dick action from Bucky every now and then. 

‘Begging for scraps’, Steve thought, ‘Stevie always begging for scraps.’

The truth of it was that Steve had given up on being happy. He’d known from the moment he walked away from the love of his life at seventeen that he would never again feel an ounce of happiness. It’d proven true along these long twenty years of his shitty life. With death on his mind Steve sped down the dark town streets, he ran two red lights, hoping against all odds he’d get rammed by a truck. Unfortunately the town was low on trucks or even cars this late in the night, so he made due with a road that was too dark to see and which turned out to be an old, rusting bridge. 

‘You could drive right off it.’ He thought and sped towards it. He pictured the scene in his head, hitting the ground would hurt, his limbs twisting every which way, his head crushing against the ground but then there would be nothing, no more regrets, no more pain. As the motorcycle buzzed toward the bridge the single headlight caught the post of a tall sign. He looked up, instinctively, for no reason, only to find himself staring into the bright static eyes of the love of his life.  
He hit the break and turned the bike to allow the drag of the soil to slow him down. It took a while, the weight of the bike being what it was but he managed to come to a full stop right below the ad bearing the face of Tony Stark. The ad was for the newest Stark Industries phone and it starred Tony, looking confidently into the horizon, a sleek thin glass phone in his hand. He looked the very picture of self-confidence and success which was probably the reason why they chose to go with him instead of some model but it was his eyes that made Steve remember. 

He knew those eyes so well, he still drew them in every corner of his mind. He remembered the way those brown eyes would look at Steve, so tender, so trusting. He remembered those eyes peeking out from a blanket in the morning still half asleep. He remembered kissing those eyelids, his eyebrows, cheeks, remembered his lips. Remembered those lips mouthing ‘I love you’ against his again and again, everything he would never have. 

‘Why?’ he asked himself. ‘Why can’t you have it again?’

‘Cause I’m a nobody, a good for nothing High School dropout who Tony wouldn’t spare a glance at anymore. Twenty years ago I had a chance. We were both young, Tony had no prospects but now? He’s as high up in the sky and as out of reach as this fucking ad.’

‘But he doesn’t have to be, you can make him remember, make him fall in love. Think Steve, think.’

And Steve did just that…

 

\---Three Years Later---

Steve had always thought the SI building was a masterpiece, akin to something Michaelangelo would have designed himself if he’d put his mind to it. The architecture of the building was like Tony himself, beautiful but functional, practical but flashy. Just being inside the building made him feel closer to its creator, it brought him an inner calmness he hadn’t felt since age seventeen. He caught glimpses of Tony, every once in a while, usually he caught him walking somewhere, always in movement, always in someone’s company. He always looked impeccable with his suit and tie and sun glasses, always looked confident and in control but only Steve knew the truth. Only Steve knew the real, vulnerable man that hid beneath the silk. Today Steve took in a long eyeful of Tony as he walked past to go to a meeting, the last he’d be getting for a while since this was Steve’s last day working at SI. His supervisor had practically been in tears when he’d told him. 

“But Grant, ya can’t leave! Ya’re one of my best janitors, no one else can handle the Robotics floor! Those fuckers are crazy.”

Steve had laughed and assured him that Casey was perfectly capable of handling the Robotic Engineers, even if last month they’d called him in a panic because their test robot had nailed 200 screws to the lab walls before anyone noticed. 

All too soon Tony was out of sight and not far behind Peter Parker ran to catch up to him. He’d been surprised to find how many of their old friends worked for Tony. Natasha Romanov was Pepper Pott’s personal assistant, and he’d heard that she’d been Tony’s assistant when he was still CEO. He often saw Natasha walking beside Ms. Potts, both women the very picture of fashionable elegance Steve had only seen in movies. He knew from the email directory that Bruce Banner was the VP of some biology wing in the building and Peter Parker was the Creative Director of Product innovation. Sam Wilson worked for the Maria Stark Foundation and Clint Barton did something that had to do with product testing. Even Thor Odinson worked for SI, he was a big shot over at Product Sales. 

There were so many familiar faces yet not a single one had ever recognized him. He’d stared right into the face of Sam Wilson, his High School best friend and not seen even a flash of recognition. It didn’t surprise him, he’d worked hard for that anonymity. 

He wore his beard full and long, making him look older than he was. He also wore glasses with large frames that masked his eyes, and Steve had not been his natural blonde since leaving Texas. He dyed his hair and beard a light brown which gave him an air of mundane lumberjack, thought he knew that his height and broad frame kept him from being entirely washed out of memory. His legal name was, as it had been since age eighteen, Grant Stevens and thankfully he’d kept his past illegal dealings private enough that his background check had come back clear back when he’d applied to SI. 

All his careful planning was about to pay off and Steve felt giddy at the proximity of climax. In exactly thirteen days Steve would finally have Tony Stark in his arms.

Day zero, as Steve referred to it in his head, started out as usual for Tony. He got up when his phone alarm rang, he showered, dressed and headed down to SI for a full day of work. Pepper was working him to the bone before his Sabbatical, it’d taken him a while to decide but eventually his friends’ constant nagging won and Tony decided to take a one year break to invent crazy things without having to worry about the company. Tony went about his normal business at work, he attended meetings and touched base with Peter. 

In the months to come Tony would look back and be thankful of everyone he managed to see that day. He’d remember that he got to talk to Pepper for a bit and had made her smile at something funny he said. He’d remember that he kissed Natasha on the cheek for no reason whatsoever before leaving their office. He’d remember patting Peter on the shoulder and telling him “Good job buddy” before leaving the lab and he’d remember texting Rhodey to check how army life was going and getting a reply that read “Everything’s fine, don’t worry about me. Remember to shower.” Tony would remind himself that he didn’t go see Thor or Bruce or Sam or Clint because he’d seen them already the weekend prior when they all got together to have a noisy games night. He’d remember the way Thor squeezed him to his side after his eighth beer, and how Bruce pulled him aside to tell him how happy he was that Tony decided to take a year off. He’d remember Sam’s steady hand on his arm, calming, understanding, comforting as if even after all these years only he understood how damaged Tony really was. He’d also be sorry he never really got to make up with Clint, they’d put their argument to rest that weekend but Tony would’ve liked to have another conversation with him, to assure Clint that Tony really was ok with him leaving his job at SI to buy a farm and move there with his wife and three kids. But regrets would come later, not on day zero. 

On day zero, Tony left SI at seven twenty-three in the evening. He walked out the building’s main doors and turned a corner, heading to the bakery one block over after having spent the whole day craving cheesecake. It was raining and Tony held a tall umbrella over his head as he walked, thankful for the cool evening air on his skin. He spent too much time indoors and only realized it in moments like this when he was surprised by the sensation of wind on his face. Just as he waited for the lights to turn the strangest series of events happened. A hand, warm and steady touched his back, Tony turned his head to see who it might be and then felt a piercing pain as a short syringe penetrated his neck, all in the cover of Tony’s large black umbrella. Tony went limb in Steve’s arms within seconds, allowing the light to turn green and the few passerby’s to walk them by. No one looked, but if they had they wouldn’t have seen anything suspicious, just a guy kissing his boyfriend underneath an umbrella. They wouldn’t have thought the man in the suit was unconscious, or that he was being held up by Steve’s strong arms around his waist. Taking hold of the umbrella, Steve used considerable strength to walk them both over to his parked car just a few feet away. 

Steve drove, his eyes on the road at all times. He gave into the temptation of looking at the backseat only twice in their forty minute ride to the motel. In the backseat, fully strapped in sat Tony looking the very picture of a tired businessman taking a nap, his head resting lightly on the window beside him. Steve had disposed of Tony’s phone as soon as they went through the Bronx, thrown it over the window in a seedy looking street. Steve wore dark leather gloves in the car and he knew the rain would wipe out both his tire marks and possibly the phone. Thankfully if someone in these parts did find the Stark Phone, it would probably be used for parts and not turned to the police. 

Finally they reached the motel, a worn down, seedy looking place, two stories with a few staircases that smelled like piss. He’d rented a room at floor level ahead of time, it had iron bars in the windows and an extra lock on the door. It was the kind of place whose main clientele probably consisted of druggies and hookers but thankfully also meant they were the least interested in calling the police if they saw anything fishy. Steve got out of the car and opened the passenger door, catching Tony’s unconscious body as it fell against him. Steve lifted Tony onto his arms, closed the doors, locked the car and walked the few steps to their room.  
Once inside, doors locked, blinds shut, telephone unplugged, Steve checked Tony’s vital signs. His pulse was strong and steady, the portable blood pressure machine showed his blood pressure was a bit low, but nothing to worry about. Smiling to himself, Steve allowed himself to finally take in Tony Stark. He’d aged, of course, so had he, Tony had little lines by his eyes, some strong frown lines between his eyebrows and a few laugh lines which he was glad for, but he was still the most beautiful thing Steve had seen in twenty-three years. His Tony, his fella, his sweetheart was finally within arm’s reach. Steve was no fool, he knew if Tony woke up now he would hate him and he was ready for that hate, he was ready for Tony’s anger and his cutting words. Steve knew that eventually Tony would remember how much he loved Steve and everything would be just as it should have been. 

Gently, Steve took off Tony’s clothes and pushed the tailored suit and brand name dress shirt inside a garbage bag. Next he injected Tony again, this time in his left arm with another stronger dose of the sedative before lifting him in his arms and moving him to the bathroom. In the bathroom Steve took his time bathing Tony, he’d bought a special terrycloth towel and shampoo for the occasion. He was careful to wash him thoroughly while still keeping his own wandering hands mostly at bay. Steve allowed himself to stroke Tony’s torso and legs but he kept his touch purely clinical when it came to his groin and butt. One day, Tony would beg for his touch, just like he used to when they were young, but until then Steve would be a gentleman. After securing Tony in the bathtub using a towel for his back, Steve foamed Tony’s chin and ran a new razor through Tony’s signature Balbo beard, shaving it right off. Next he took out the dark blonde hair dye he’d bought and quickly started to apply it to Tony’s hair. While he waited for the dye to take, Steve left Tony in the warm water while he finished shaving off what remained of his full beard. He’d cut it a bit to do the deed but had kept some facial hair just in case he was seen or caught on a security camera. Now though, with Tony here he could cut it all off and let his natural blonde hair grow back out. A few minutes later the dye had set and Steve rinsed Tony off completely. Once Tony was dry, dressed and lying on the bed, Steve quickly relieved himself and went on to wash out the tub with bleach and wipe out the bathroom using special wipes to destroy any prints. 

Half an hour later, Steve had cleared the room and had Tony back in the car. It was now nine thirty and they were right on schedule. It would take them eight hours to get to the cabin and Steve was planning on driving all night, after all, the quicker they got there the more likely their trail would go cold. Unbeknown to Steve, the timing for the deed couldn’t have been better. The month prior, Tony Stark had received an anonymous threat from an extremist group known as Hydra who wanted SI to resume their weapons manufacturing division. Pepper and Scott Lang, the head of security, had notified the NYPD and it’d be this lead which would wash out Steve’s trail for months to come. At present time however, Steve was being cautious and upon reaching New Hampshire they switched cars. The plates from the car he’d driven in New York were duplicate plates from an unsuspecting car owner in New York. The plates on the car he picked up in New Hampshire however, were his. He felt relieved to be back in his own car, with his fella still asleep beside him. Slowly, Steve was beginning to feel more and more like himself. Not quite like the good old Steve of his youth, but certainly more alive than he’d felt in over a decade. 

Steve’s cottage in Northern Maine was above all, remote. Along with the cottage he also owned fifteen acres around it to guarantee privacy. He’d bought it, in cash, direct from the owner using his gains from a weekend trip to Vegas. He’d brought six months worth of pay to a high rollers table and left with enough to buy his cottage and furnish it like a king. He’d worked on getting the cottage ready for a full year, everything from fixing the heat and roof to adding an extra room to digging a pantry cellar. He’d done everything on his own, years of working construction jobs for cash finally coming in handy. The cottage was fully stocked with eight months worth of food and enough medicine to cure a plague and kill a moose. 

Beside Steve, Tony didn’t stir. The rhythmic fall and rise of his chest was the only indication that he was alive and well. Before leaving New York, Steve had placed a travel pillow around Tony’s neck and wrapped a blanket around his legs, making him look so natural it was heartbreakingly adorable. He was glad for it when they were pulled over by a patrol car in the outskirts of New Hampshire.

“License and registration please” the office instructed, he peered inside the car with the flashlight. 

“Here it is officer” Steve took out both from the glove compartment and watched with a tired smile as the officer shone his flashlight at his credentials. 

“Where’re you heading?”

“Home Sir, to Maine” 

“Where you coming from?”

“Princeton, we went to visit my sister there.”

“That your friend?” Asked the officer, pointing at Tony. 

“No, my boyfriend. He has work in the afternoon and didn’t want to take the extra day off so he took a Nightquill and is out like a light”

“Awful lot of driving ahead of you, isn’t it?”

“Naw, it’s fine. I slept 10 hours straight before we hit the road and we took a break just an hour ago… before he took the Nighquill.” Steve laughed in a fond sort of way. As if he was letting the officer in on some sort of inside joke. For his part the officer, a man in his mid-thirties simply nodded his head. 

“Alright, drive safely” He handed Steve’s credentials back to him, not even bothering to look at Tony whose cheek was squished against the side of the travel donut.

“Thank you officer, I will” 

 

Tony work up in layers.

At first he noticed he was lying on a bed under a blanket. Next he realized he was thirsty, thirsty in a way he’d never been in his whole life. He opened his eyes slowly, drowsy and took in his surroundings. He was in a medium sized room, light blue in colour, drywall all around. It was almost completely bare except for the bed he was lying on and what looked to be a night table by the side, a night table with a bottle of Gatorade on it. He reached for it, noticed it was uncapped and that his hand left hand shook at the movement. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the bottle and brought it close to him. As he sat up a little to take a long gulp, a wave of dizziness blinded him. He fought against it, his lips wrapping greedily around the neck of the bottle, gulping down the liquid. Then he noticed something else, his right wrist was cuffed, it was cuffed because he was chained. The sudden wave of adrenaline that filled Tony’s system gave him the strength to sit up on the bed, his head swimming. He took a proper look at the chain then, at one end was his wrist at the other, a bed leg. Interestingly enough, whoever had chained him had bothered to wrap a sweatband around his wrist, beneath the cuff, to prevent it from cutting into him. 

‘That’s good’ he thought, ‘It means they want to keep me alive for now.’

He was barefoot and the floor beneath him was hardwood, it looked clean and new. The blue walls had recently been painted, he could tell by the lack of marks on them. There was a little window with steel bars high up on one of the walls, from which the last or the first of yellowish sun rays shone through. Tony ran a hand over the white covers of the bed, they smelled clean and the bed was soft. It was meant to be comforting, he realized. The clean bed, the blue walls, the little window, it was as if whoever was doing this was planning on keeping him for a long time. The thought didn’t scare him as much as it should have, mostly because he felt so drowsy and also so very hungry. 

He finished the bottle of Gatorade and was placing back on the nightstand when he heard the wooden door unlock. The adrenaline returned and Tony braced himself for whatever came, pushing the dizziness away. The door was pushed open slowly, revealing, little by little, a tall, broad man carrying a food tray. Once fully inside the room the man used his back to shut the door and Tony looked at his face. 

Steve had fantasized about this moment for a long time, he’d thought about all the different ways Tony could react, how his eyes would look, how his mouth might curl. But much to his surprise and infinite pleasure, Tony’s eyes widened just a bit and his mouth formed the syllables of his name so softly that Steve almost missed it altogether. 

“Steve?”

“Hi Tony” 

With Tony’s eyes on him, Steve walked closer and set the food tray on the night table.

“You must be starving, I made you something. I know it’s not your favourite, it’s just some eggs but I wanted to go easy on your stomach after all the sedatives”  
Tony continued starting at Steve until the reference to his kidnapping snapped him out of his surprised daze. 

“It was you? You kidnapped me?... Why?”

“I know that right now probably nothing makes sense. But I just need you to understand something… Tony, I’m not going to hurt you. Everything is ok and everything will be ok.”

Should he touch his hand in reassurance? Maybe just a tap, not no, it was still too soon…

“Are you asking for ransom?”

“What?” 

“Money, how much money are you asking for Steve?”

“Tony, no, of course I’m not asking for money! That’s not what this is about at all”

Steve did reach out to grab Tony’s hand then, his fingers coiling around Tony’s fisted hand. Immediately Tony recoiled at the touch but Steve followed the hand, not letting it escape the warmth of his palm. 

“Tony, I know this is gonna be hard to understand but I didn’t do this for money. There will be no ransom, this isn’t about that, this is about me fixing the biggest mistake I ever made. I’m trying to make things right Tony, I wanna try to do right by you this time around”

“What the fuck are you talking about Steve?”

One of Steve’s knees hit the floor as he came to kneel in front of Tony. 

“I love you Tony, I love you and I know I hurt you but I just want a chance to make things right again. I want us to have a chance at being happy.”

Steve watched as Tony’s brown eyes widened, his cheek muscles tensed, his brow furrowed. He’d expected this, he’d known this would be Tony’s reaction. 

“You’re fucking crazy” 

Steve chuckled then broke into a full string of bubbly laughter. 

“I can see why you’d think that honey, really I can. But don’t worry everything will make sense little by little.”

Steve smiled indulgently and reached for the food tray to place it on Tony’s lap, keeping his left hand on it to help him balance. 

“Please eat something, you will feel better after you do”

Had Tony been himself, he would’ve thrown the food at Steve, would’ve bathed him in insults right there and then, would’ve even started figuring out a way to escape, but as things were he wasn’t himself. He felt tired, and drowsy and his brain felt like it was floating in molasses, so Tony just took the offered tray and focused on getting forkful of eggs into his mouth. 

He’d think about it later... after another nap. 

 

During Tony’s moments of lucidity when the medications (for he was sure there were many hidden in hid food and drink) wore out a little, he’d try to figure out how long he’d been in that room for. He’d think of the number of times Steve had helped him change his clothes, or how many times he’d seen daylight since arriving, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t make sense of it. Time had stopped having meaning, there were simply meal times and bathroom times and dressing times. The times in between were readings times, hours and hours of listening to Steve read any book of modern and past literature. Tony couldn’t always follow along but eventually the sound of Steve’s voice became more important than the story. 

Steve was always constant. Steve was the constant to everything, he fed Tony, took him to the bathroom, helped him shower, dress, comb his hair. Steve was always in the room, sitting on the floor or on the foot of his bed. He rarely left except to prepare a meal or when it was time to go to sleep. Weeks went on like this, weeks of Tony listening to the gentle sound of Steve’s voice as he read book after book, after book. One day, as Steve took a break to flip a page Tony finally mustered the strength to ask the question that kept pounding in his head. 

“Why?”

“Why what sweetheart?”

“Why… am… I…here”

Steve’s rosy lips broke into a smile, his blue eyes lifted from the page to look at Tony’s drowsy ones. 

“Because I can’t live without you”

“You… left… me”

Tony registered with detached interest as Steve’s features hardened, his eyes sharpening with something that could have been violence. Then, just as quickly that violence vanished, and Steve crawled to his bedside. He kneeled forward and rested his torso on the soft bed by Tony’s shoulders before taking Tony’s right hand between his own. 

“If I could do it all over again, I would stay with you. You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I just would’ve stayed at the Academy with you and our friends. But I was so young, and so confused… I thought I was doing the right thing and look at me now, I didn’t even finish High School Tony…”

Steve brought Tony’s hand to his lips, pressing kisses against the cold fingers. 

“My whole life wasted because I just couldn’t let go of a childhood friend. A friend who had no trouble tossing me aside for his own happiness… I know I hurt you Tony, I know I hurt you so bad you’ve been scared of falling in love with anyone ever since, but I’ve been hurtin’ too baby. I’ve been in hell for over twenty years.”  
He was crying now, fat salty tears dropping onto Tony’s fingers. It moved Tony, somehow the sight of Steve crying registered deep in Tony’s foggy brain and it made him sad to see it. Tony wiped his fingers over Steve’s cheeks, spreading the moisture and making Steve smile. 

“Drying my tears sweetheart?”

He chuckled, embarrassed at himself and for the first time while Tony was conscious, Steve leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Tony’s smooth cheek. He stayed there, running his lips over the soft skin of Tony’s face, inhaling his scent. Tony, noting the warmth that was pressing against him brought his clumsy left hand to touch Steve’s hair. It was the first time Steve invaded his personal space, when Tony showered Steve made sure to keep a small distance and keep his eyes averted. But now Steve was just so warm and his hair so smooth and he was just so real in Tony’s arms that without thinking he scooted over so as to give Steve some room to lay down on the bed beside him. Steve’s pained smile widened into a full beam of pleased satisfaction and he climbed onto the bed so quickly he made them both bounce. 

Tony stayed close to the comforting warmth, kept his hand fisted on the shirt that smelled like softener and fell asleep thinking of the boy he fell in love with when he was just fifteen… he’d think about what that meant tomorrow. 

 

Steve touched Tony more after that, sweet, chaste touches that left Tony feeling reluctantly comforted. Steve’s favorite thing to do now was read to Tony with his head on the blonde’s lap. When he got tired of that he put Tony’s head on his chest and read aloud while running his fingers through the brown hair that still had some blonde dye left at the tips. With each passing day Tony was beginning to wonder if Steve was trying to create a human cat. Steve was all gentle touches and soft kisses to temples, cheeks, nose and hands. He was all about feeding Tony, reading to Tony, taking care of Tony so much so that it took Tony longer than it should have to realize he was feeling less clumsy one late afternoon. His mind was also sharper, he could remember what he’d had for lunch (a chicken sandwich) and the chapter of the Da Vinci code Steve had read to him earlier that day. 

“You haven’t been drugging me as much” 

Steve smiled, a sad little smile while placing a new bottle of water on the bedside table. 

“You noticed that”

“I can sorta think, so yeah”

“Figured I can start easing you off the meds a little. Give you a little more room to be yourself, I miss you”

“Thought you just wanted me for the packaging”

Steve sat on the bed by Tony’s pelvis, half his body turned to look at the brunette.

“I want you for you. I miss the sound of your voice Tony. I’m keeping you like this because I know you’d bolt the moment you had the chance not because I like it.”  
The pain in Steve’s voice made Tony feel bad somehow, he tried not to but he couldn’t help it. Tony was aware he should be looking for chances to escape, for phones, computers, anything at all that could send a signal and yet…

He didn’t quite feel like it, especially after Steve grabbed the book again, opened it to the page he’d left it at and started reading aloud while settling comfortably by Tony’s side. A few minutes later, after he’d finished the chapter, Steve surprised Tony by picking up the subject again. 

“I hope someday I can show you the rest of the house. I’m not much of a decorator but I chose everything with you in mind so I think you’ll like it. Someday we might even take a walk out in the woods, they’re so beautiful Tony and I own several acres so we can just, wander around.”

Woods, Tony thought, they were hidden in woodland probably in the middle of nowhere. So much for that section on the ‘how to escape a kidnapping’ handbook he remembered reading a billion years ago. Tony felt as Steve placed a warm kiss on his temple, Steve’s lips stretched into a smile against his skin. 

“It’s all up to you Tony” 

‘All up to me,’ Tony thought. If that was true then there was hope still, he could lure Steve into a false sense of trust and comfort, make him lower his guard enough to leave an opening for Tony to escape. He just had to wait it out. 

 

Waiting was easier than Tony ever would have thought, it was as if every crazy drive, every desire, every restless thought had been surgically removed from his soul, leaving behind a single minded focus on the here and now. Whatever meds Steve was feeding him left him feeling as if he was high on cough syrups with a side of antidepressants. He was numb, but he liked cuddles and warmth and sweet kisses on his face. He liked eating the food Steve prepared for him (all his favorites) and he liked how much Steve doted on him. His fifteen-year old self relished Steve’s attention, suckled on the sweet nectar of his utter regret. He drank Steve’s fervent confessions: “Was such a fucking fool” and “I never should have left” and “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” So more time passed, Tony couldn’t tell how much but he could smell the air changing whenever Steve left his barred window open to allow fresh air in. It smelled crisper, what he assumed was less pine-y and it troubled him at first, made him wonder how long he’d been here already, suspended in dazed version of himself. It surprised him when one early morning he woke up with his feet frozen cold and shivering under a blanket. 

“Steeevee!”

The frenzied call caused Steve to bolt out of bed at what turned out to be five twenty eight in the morning. He ran to Tony’s locked room, expecting the worst and found the room a meat freezer, Tony shivering on the bed under a blanket. 

“Oh Tony” Steve whimpered, as if seeing him in such a state caused him indescribable pain. 

Crossing the length of the icy room he gathered the shivering bundle in his arms. 

“Are you ok sweetheart?”

Tony curled around the warmth radiating from Steve’s chest and he nodded. 

“The heating in this room must be acting up. I thought I’d fixed it but it’s probably something else, I’m sorry Tony”

He peppered kisses on the cold skin of Tony’s forehead and he curled deeper into Steve’s arms. Tony felt Steve reaching for his wrist and felt him unfasten the cuff. Usually Steve only removed the cuff to take him to the bathroom so Tony wondered where he was taking him. Suddenly he was up, restrained by the cocoon of blankets he’d bundled himself in and held securely in Steve’s arms. Even in his drowsy mind Tony remembered to stretch out his neck out as he was led out of the room. He glimpsed from over Steve’s shoulder as he was taken past the usual door of the bathroom and into another section of the house, one he’d never been in. There was a large living room and beside it was the main door but all too soon his view was obstructed by a wall as he was led past another bathroom onto a large bedroom. 

‘Steve’s room, he’s taking me to his room’

Tony felt as he was lowered down onto a bed and was just starting to untangle himself from the blankets when he heard Steve close and lock the door. 

“I’m putting a lot of trust in your hands right now Tony. Please don’t make me put you back in that ice box, ok?”

Tony looked at the surroundings, (as much as the darkness allowed) it was a large room with exposed wooden beams and log walls. It was simply decorated, rather minimalistic with just a large chest of drawers to one side. But there was no phone in sight, not even a computer or a TV. 

“Tony”

He looked up, tried to see Steve’s face. 

“What?”

“It’s wintertime out there, there’s over five feet of snow that’ve accumulated so there’s no point in trying to run away. I need you to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” 

Tony was not an idiot, he could hear the wind beating snow down on the roof. He knew there had to be a blizzard and if he tried to run he’d only die from exposure.  
“I promise not to try anything stupid Steve”

He could see Steve’s smile even in the dark because of his teeth, his perfect white teeth that seemed to shimmer in the dark. He wanted to punch those perfect teeth.  
“Scoot over to the left”

After some struggle with the tangle of sheets Tony did as instructed and managed to drag himself to the side closest to the window. He laid down on sheets and pillow case that smelled like Steve and closed his eyes, falling asleep in seconds. 

Ten o’clock. For the first time in forever Tony knew it was exactly ten in the morning because the large clock on Steve’s wall said so. Tony moved his gaze to the other’s man’s sleeping face and thought about how once upon a time Tony had loved waking Steve up in different ways, sometimes with kisses, others with blow jobs and on one especially memorable occasion, he’d been able to get Steve hard enough and himself prepped quickly enough that he’d downright sunk into Steve for full on sex before the blonde even opened his eyes. 

They’d been so young, and while that was an easy thing to say it embodied a myriad of complicated concepts. What Tony really meant was that they’d been so in love, so horny, so unhealthily co-dependent that Steve leaving killed Tony. Now here they were, over twenty years later and Steve had become a kidnapper and a criminal all so he could reclaim that lost era.

‘Just go along with it for now. Make him trust you, get him to stop the meds and then run.’ It was a solid plan, a good plan that would buy him time until the weather was better. He needed to get used to these surroundings, if he tried to run now Steve would have the element of familiar ground in his favour. He’d probably find him before Tony made it to a major highway. ‘Find a phone, call SI,’ but no, he thought, doing that would just give Steve time to grab him and run somewhere else. Steve had always been a strategist and the likelihood he hadn’t thought and come with different scenarios was unlikely.  
As Tony’s mind raced Steve’s eyes fluttered open and then turned his head to face Tony. 

“Good morning babe”

“Morning”

Steve smiled at Tony, his gaze soft and smile shy before suddenly turning fully to his side to face the brunette.

“I could definitely get used to this.”

Tony knew where this was going, it was something he used to tell Steve every morning once upon that previously mentioned time.  
“Me in your bed?” 

Steve’s eyes crinkled as if Tony had just delighted him. 

“You remembered…”

Long, broad fingers traced the outline of Tony’s stubbly cheek. The rough finger pads running over the skin in a comforting manner. 

“So much time wasted…” Steve mused. Then in a completely 180, “Let’s get you to the bathroom ok? Then after we can have breakfast.”

The ugly memory of icy air and violent shivering flashed in Tony’s mind and he quickly voiced his distress.

“Steve I can’t go back to that room, it’s too cold” 

“What do you suggest we do then Tony?”

“You said it was all up to me, how about you let me prove that you can trust me. We can do everything we usually do here in the bedroom or in the living room.”  
That image struck a chord with Steve, suddenly he could clearly envision himself in the living room couch with Tony’s head on his lap as they watched the snow covered window. The simple domesticity of the scene twisted his guts with a yearning so strong he could highly keep it at bay. Tony was offering him to begin their lives together in beautiful normality and he’d be a fool to say no. 

“Alright Tony, if that’s what you want.”

Steve was on his feet in seconds and made a show of stretching leisurely before going around the help Tony up. Even clad in a long sleeved shirt and sweatpants Steve was gorgeous. He was well built with such considerable muscle definition that it left Tony wondering how Steve managed to maintain that physique when he spent his days by Tony’s side reading. ‘He must work out when I’m sleeping’ he concluded. 

Tony let Steve help him to his feet, a wave of nausea and dizziness hitting him hard. He despised whatever cocktail Steve had him on that left him so utterly useless but he’d claim his victories one at a time. Today he’d be allowed to see the rest of the house, maybe tomorrow he’d convince Steve to ease off on the drugs. ‘Baby steps Stark, baby steps.’ 

Steve kept Tony close to his side the entire walk to what Tony now realized was his own private bathroom. Once there, Steve opened the door and stood guard by the doorframe as usual while Tony used the facilities. Finally Tony understood why the bathroom was so bare, why the only thing in there was a safety razor, his toothbrush, toothpaste and soaps. Steve’s personal bathroom which was probably full of sharp, potentially hazardous things was kept away from Tony’s interested hands. Today Tony went through the daily bathroom ritual without complaint. He stripped and showered without being told to and didn’t scream for Steve to go away, he was being good, establishing trust and all that crap. For his part Steve seemed pleased, as if finally seeing Tony play by his rules brought him unspeakable joy.  
Tony stepped out of the curtain less tub shower and into the awaiting fluffy towel Steve help up for him, his eyes looking into Steve’s the whole time. Desire, Steve desired him that much was clear but he never acted upon that desire. His affections never went further than sweet kisses to his face and what could only be described as aggressive cuddling. Perhaps that too was a weakness Tony could exploit. 

“Don’t you have to use the bathroom?”

“I will, right after I get you back into the bedroom”

“What about breakfast?”

“Don’t worry Tony, I won’t forget to feed you” 

Mirth coloured Steve’s voice and it sent liquid warmth straight through Tony’s body. 

“You’re being stubborn, just use this toilet. I still have to shave anyway and you know how long that takes with this shitty razor”

Steve smiled wider, the joy staying in his face instead of fading away. ‘Use this Stark, make him trust you. The more comfortable he gets the more he’ll let his guard down’

Steve nodded his surrender and Tony turned to the mirror to go about his daily task of trying to shave with a prison razor. Tony didn’t understand why the sound of Steve peeing surprised him, but it did, perhaps because he hadn’t been in the bathroom while someone relieved their bladder since… well since he’d dated Steve really. It just wasn’t a habit he’d ever encouraged. All his relationships were always more formal, all his one-night stands always more customary. Natasha once told him he was the only person she’d ever met who kept such a distinct line between personal and professional. He’d taken it as a compliment until she following with “… and you’re always professional unless you’re with people you’ve known since before you grew armpit hair.”

He’d poked her in the sides for that and pouted until she rolled her eyes, called him a big baby and pushed his cheeks together with her palms until his lips pushed out like those of a pufferfish. He never understood why she liked doing that to him so much, perhaps because she was the only person in the world who could. Natasha was his sister, plain and simple, born from a different set of parents in a different part of the world but his sister nonetheless. 

“Who’re you thinking about?”

To Tony’s surprise not only was Steve done relieving himself but he himself was done shaving. 

“Nothing”

Reflected in the mirror, Tony saw Steve’s jaw harden, his brows furrowing. Tony sighed. 

“I was just thinking about Natasha”

Jawline softened and brows unfurrowed.

“I miss her too still, Nat’s always been amazing.”

“Yeah she is. You know, she always thought you’d come back. Never stopped believing, it but I bet not even she could’ve seen this coming.”

Large, warm palms wrapped around Tony’s shoulders, his clothed chest pressed against Tony’s naked back. 

“I wish things could’ve different Tony but I knew they’d never let me within five metres of you now. Not after everything I put you through.”

“So now you do know what you put me through?” 

Tony hated how angry his voice sounded, how gutted he still felt. He met Steve’s eyes in the mirror like a lion looking at prey and to his credit Steve didn’t flinch. 

“Oh I know… I betrayed you, crushed you, scarred you. I made you weary of trusting anyone with your heart. I know how much I hurt you Tony, that’s why I chose to do this. I want to make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me?! I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own you sick fuck! You’re DRUGGING me!”

In an instant Steve had Tony spun around to face him but the movement proved too much for the towel wrapped around Tony’s waist, it fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap.

“I know what I’m doing seems sick and wrong, I know that Tony, but this is the only way I could think of where you’d give me the chance to prove myself worthy of you! I can take care of you and love you and cherish you. I can feed you and spend time with you like I always should’ve done! I’m just trying to buy myself some time until you realize what you’ve been hiding for twenty-three years Tony!”

“What Steve? What could I possibly be hiding for that long?”

“That you’re still in love with me” 

Once, a year ago Clint accused Tony of that exact same thing and he’d fervently denied it back then. This time around however, Tony was no longer so sure. 

“That doesn’t matter Steve”

“Of course it matters!”

“No! Actions matters, trust matters! Without any of that love isn’t worth shit!”

For a moment Tony was sure he’d finally pushed too far. Steve’s eyes filled with rage and he imagined himself on the receiving side of a backhand but instead of pain, Steve crushed Tony against his chest, his arms wrapping around Tony’s torso in a bruising grip. Steve buried his face in Tony’s neck and it wasn’t until Tony noticed his shoulder was wet that he realized Steve was crying. He raised his arms then, reached around Steve’s waist and held him tightly. 

“What can I do Tony?...What can I possible do to make you want to be with me?”

Steve’s voice sounded wrecked and the words were so painfully raw Tony could feel how desperate he really was. This would’ve been the perfect opportunity for Tony to convince Steve to free him. He could’ve convinced him to let him call SI, to drive him to an airport, to leave him alone forever but unfortunately Tony already knew the answer to Steve’s question. 

“Let’s date”

“What?”

Steve lifted his head off Tony’s shoulder, his blue eyes bearing red and huge into Tony’s calm brown irises. 

“You. Me. Date. No more drugs, no more you in my face all day long. We just spend time with each other like normal fucking people for a few weeks and see how it goes. I’ll call Pepper to let her know I’m safe, ask her to call off the manhunt they probably have going and we just hang out here.”

“How do I know you won’t tell Pepper to come rescue you?”

“See, that’s where the trust thing comes in. You trust me to keep my word and I trust you to not be a creepy kidnapper anymore.” 

“Do you mean that Tony?”

No matter how much time passed, Tony’s favorite fantasy remained the one in which Steve Rogers kneeled in front of him and begged Tony to forgive him, begged Tony to take him back. The fantasy always ended with Tony kicking Steve right out of whatever room he imagined himself to be in. He’d always meant that fantasy, had in fact seen it as a sort of dress rehearsal just in case. But never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined just how much Steve could have destroyed himself. The man Tony had gotten to know in however long he’d been in this cabin for, was but a shadow of the man he’d once known. A tortured, warped shadow but it was still Steve.

“Yeah Steve, I really do”

Steve held Tony’s jawline in his large palms, crushed their foreheads together in a sort of dramatic non-kiss. 

“I love you so much Tony… I love you more than I love myself… we’ll do whatever you want.”

It was the pain in Steve’s voice that stirred something in Tony, stirred his humanity, his care, his compassion. They were standing so close together, their body heat leaking into each other’s, their breaths mingling so intimately that when Steve stepped back Tony almost fell over. A heartbeat later Steve was heading to the bathroom door with conviction.

“Where’re you doing?”

“I’ve gotta start breakfast” He stopped at the door frame but didn’t turn to see Tony’s nakedness. “Feel free to make yourself at home”

 

Tony stared at the cell phone in his hands for longer than he’d care to admit. He was sitting on the loveseat close to the chimney in the living room wearing sweatpants, fluffy socks and a sweater. They’d finished eating breakfast in the kitchen island two hours ago but had somehow gotten to talking about nothing in particular. The sound of Steve putting a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of Tony made the brunette suddenly freeze and look at Steve.

“It’s just tea, I swear. You need to drink plenty of liquids so your body flushes out the last of yesterday’s meds. You won’t go into withdrawal because I’ve been weaning you off little by little but you still need to drink.”

Tony nodded and watched as Steve retreated back to the kitchen. Three months and a week… that’s how long he’d just learned he’d been in the cabin for already. According to Steve, the blame for Tony’s disappearance had gone to the terrorist organization Hydra, then when Hydra claimed it wasn’t them, they’d passed the blame to another organization by the name of AIM. Finally the investigation had degraded into a game of terrorist hot potato that had the media reeling with speculation. 

Tony inhaled and started dialing Pepper’s number before he could stop himself. 

It wasn’t a long conversation but it didn’t need to be. There were squeals of happiness from Pepper, relief, disbelief, then the questions began and the answers came to Tony quickly and by their own accord. Tony listened as his mouth and brain spun artful half-truths after downright lies. He heard himself explaining how Steve had saved him from a pair of masked kidnappers and had brought him to his cabin in Maine. He listened to himself recall the experience and tell her how he’d been drugged by them and how Steve had nursed him back to health. He heard himself asking Pepper to let the NYPD know Tony was safe but to hold off on sending a car down for him just yet. He did consciously ask for Natasha and Rhodey’s cell phone numbers, gave her Steve’s phone number so she could reach Tony and hung up promising to call her the next day. 

Tony looked at the cell phone in his hand in awe at the masterful way he’d just lied to Pepper and knowing full well that no one would ever hear a different sequence of events from him. He came back to himself to the feel of Steve gently touching his knee then promptly lost himself again in Steve’s adoring blue eyes and beaming smile. Slowly, Steve learned forward into Tony’s space and Tony closed the gap between them by pressing his lips against Steve’s. It was just a caress at first, lips against lips until Tony pushed his lower lip in between Steve’s, successfully coaxing the mouth’s blonde open. They kissed until they ran out of breath and were finally pulled apart by the shrill sound of the cell phone ringing.

 

Epilogue

Tony Stark had once lived in the penthouse of a tall building overlooking all of Manhattan, he now lived on top of a mountain overlooking trees and a river. He’d not gone back to see his old kingdom in the last four years, but he’d still seen plenty of his old friends since. They came to stay with them sometimes, Sam and Thor, Clint and his brood, Natasha, Pepper, Peter, Rhodey and Bruce. They came to visit often enough, took the guest room that had once been Tony’s cell and talked for ages about how nice it was up here, how beautiful the trees were and how blue the sky was. They thanked Tony’s lucky stars that Steve had saved Tony from his AIM kidnappers (for the organization had eventually claimed the feat) and enjoyed getting to know their old friend again. Steve for his part always acted the part masterfully, he was humble and amiable and funny. He suited Tony’s persona and never crowded them.

They laughed and teased and reminisced but Tony was always glad when they left and it was just him and Steve again. Tony liked when Steve stopped acting the part of the all-around perfect, all-American guy and became his again. When Steve went back to giving Tony his undivided attention for as long as Tony wanted it, when Steve sat down in the couch of Tony’s newly built lab/garage just so he could be in the same vicinity as the genius, when Steve’s whole existence revolved around what Tony wanted to eat, or what he might want to watch or if Tony was feeling like taking a walk today. When they could spend all day together in bed naked, touching each other, kissing, grinding, making love, where Steve could worship every spot of Tony’s skin with his hands and tongue and eyes.  
There were things Tony and Steve didn’t talk about. They didn’t talk about how Steve had come to acquire so many scars, they didn’t talk about why Steve always wanted to have his eyes on Tony or why Tony sought out every ounce of attention. They never talked about why having Steve at his beck and call pleased Tony so much he sometimes ‘accidentally’ dropped a glass just to watch Steve clean it up for him and fuss about Tony not getting splinters in his feet. They didn’t talk about Bucky or why Tony refused to go back to SI even after his Sabbatical was over. 

“Sweetheart, what would you like for dessert? Chocolate cake or carrot cake?”

From his spot in the living room Tony looked at the Steve, a huge grin on his face. 

“Homemade?”

“Nope, from Marcy’s, but I can make us some from scratch if you’d prefer”

“Homemade chocolate cake?”

“Coming right up!”

Tony’s eyes strayed from his laptop to focus on watching Steve get the necessary ingredients out to start on his cake. No, they never talked about certain things because they didn’t need to and if they did… Tony would think about that tomorrow.

 

The end

 

Notes:  
The title and ongoing theme from this story is based on the famous “I’ll think about it tomorrow” line from ‘Gone with the Wind.’ It just seemed to fit well with the version of Stockholm syndrome that I was trying to create. If by the end you’re wondering who actually holds the power in their relationship then I did my job. Thanks for reading!


End file.
